


Meet the Apprentice

by CRichwine



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, She doesn't get with anyone, So yeah, and this takes place in 1968, feedback would be loved, for reference she's 28, or is a mary-sue, please let me know if Apprentice turns into a Mary-Sue, she is Spy's apprentice hence the class name, so if you read plz comment your opinion, trying not to make her one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CRichwine/pseuds/CRichwine
Summary: As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.(I'm bad at summaries and I don't want to spoil stuff but also I'm still working out the plot so I'm basically making this up as I go sorry!It's kind of good that much I can tell you.)





	1. Turbine

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated, and if you have any questions, ask away! Have a good day! :)

    The sun sat high in the sky of New Mexico, glaring down on the drab orange landscape and forming shimmering heat waves on the dusty ground. Among the desert scene sat a large facility, a light gray building that had large air conditioners running all along its roof. Around it was a tall chain link fence that had large KEEP OUT signs bolted to it at intervals. As if the locals didn’t know enough to stay away.

    The only openings in the fence were two narrow gaps, one along each short end of the rectangular compound, wide enough for your average pickup truck to fit through.  Through each gap was a parking lot, and a metal sliding door entrance to the building. A multi-colored line ran horizontally along the outer walls, half of it red, the other blue. On the blue half, a slightly rusting 1959 Pontiac Bonneville made its way into the lot, pulling into one of the lopsided parking spaces. As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

    Dust swirled around her ankles, and a warm breeze toyed with her pigtails as she walked up to the metal sliding door. Raising one pale, calloused hand, palm reddened by the heat, she knocked; a reverberating clang cut through the tranquil desert. As she waited for someone to answer, she examined the logo on the door. The door itself was painted blue, gray peeking out where the paint had peeled off the corrugated metal. A large white wrench had been stylistically painted on it, the lower half of the tool made up of the acronym “BLU”. The top half of a bolt was held between the teeth of the wrench, and in the middle of the bolt was a yellow and blue globe. Beneath all of this, in block letters, were the words “BUILDERS LEAGUE UNITED”.

     Humming to herself, she wondered what she’d look like in an all blue uniform.

    Suddenly, the door began to slide upwards, making a rattling noise that she could only associate with ball bearings, and she shook herself from her thoughts. In the doorway, illuminated by bright fluorescent lights, was a short, stocky man wearing overalls and a yellow hard hat. Around his neck was a pair of what appeared to be some form of welding goggles. His brown eyes were small and deeply set, and the skin around them was rather paler than the rest of his face, but nonetheless they shone brightly and had a warmth to them. The man that the kind eyes belonged to smiled at her brightly.

    “Well, howdy there. My name is…well, we ain’t supposed to share our birth names, just our class names and any nicknames that come besides, but for simplicity’s sake let’s just call ‘em our names. Might as well be, I reckon, since we been using ‘em for so long. But as I was sayin’, th’name’s Engineer. If that’s too long for your fancy, you can call me Engie.”

    The woman nodded; she’d been informed of the “no-names” rule when she had been registered by Miss Pauling. The secretary had claimed that it was for “security’s” sake, but she assumed it was to stifle as many bonding opportunities as possible.

    The man had extended a hand, so she shook it. His grip was firm

    “My name is Sa-…sorry, I mean, Apprentice.” She replied sheepishly.

    Engie just grinned at her. “That’s alright, it takes a bit to get used to it. Now come on in, it’s just about suppertime. Normally th’whole team don’t all sit in the rec room to eat, but since we’ve got a new recruit Miss Pauling had... suggested we use the time to get introduced, to save time later.”

    Read: threatened. For some of them, at least.

    But Apprentice nodded as she was led into the building. She sighed as a blast of cool air hit her. Engie led her down a long, gray hallway. There were doors leading off of it, all marked with signs. One read “BUNKS”, and a few others, “BATHROOMS”. Another large sliding door sat on the right, with a sign above it that read “RESPAWN”. She shuddered as she remembered the RESPAWN chip she still needed to have implanted.

    Engie pointed at the RESPAWN door. “Through there’d be your ammo lockers n’such, and then there’s another door in there leadin’ to the battlements. We’ll go over this tomorrow when y’all’re given the tour. We get Sundays off, o’course, and when we move to the next compound we get the whole weekend to get settled.”

    Apprentice nodded again. She wasn’t much of a talker. The same could not be said for Engie, however, who was talking quite a bit, and the more he talked, the thicker his Texan accent grew. Most of it was just bits of random trivia about the facility and offhand comments about its name (“Ya ain’t gonna wonder why it’s called ‘Turbine’ once ya see the battlements, that’s for sure!”) and the team (“Y’all might think _I’M_ talking much, but you just wait’ll you meet Scout! That boy could outtalk a lil yappin’ dog, I’ll tell ya that”).

    He led her through a small kitchen (the sink was piled with dishes; covering the pile was a towel, and on it was a piece of paper, on it scrawled hasty note: Outta site, outta mind, Engie.)

    The Texan snorted at this and muttered, “Darn it, Scout.”

    He rolled his eyes at Apprentice. “That boy hates doin’ his share of the chores, ‘specially the dishes. And he can’t spell worth a darn, neither.”

    Apprentice smiled at that and followed Engie through the kitchen doorway, into a room that was the dining room and rec room, according to the sign above it. She frowned a bit when she saw the sign; was _everything_ here labelled?

    There were eight men sitting in various places around the rec room, absorbed in their own activities. None of them noticed her walking in. Engie leaned towards her.

    “I’m gonna go get the grub, now go’n get yourself settled.” He headed back into the kitchen.

    Apprentice took a deep breath and walked forwards. She hated meeting new people, and always felt that they were judging her, that they thought she was weird. But as she got closer, she realized that she was probably one of the most normal ones there. One of them, a light-skinned man in a baggy fireproof suit, sat on the floor, criss-cross style, in front of a couch. He was shifting back and forth, a deceptively childish grin on his face, as he clicked a lighter on and off. His eyes shone bright with the reflection of the flame, but there was a fire to them that definitely wasn’t a reflection. She decided to steer clear of him for now, and looked around for a safer person to sit near. Unfortunately, none of the other options seemed to be very good.

    On one of the three lumpy couches in the room sat a lanky man with thinning brown hair. A pair of yellow shooting glasses were pushed up onto his forehead, and he was sitting on far end of the couch closest to the wall. He was drinking coffee and reading _Catch-22._ He appeared calm, but the way his eyes were darting around the room and the way he seemed to be trying to collapse in on himself suggested that he wasn’t used to being around the rest of the team after matches.

    A bottle flew past her head, drawing her attention to the far end of the room, towards the dining table. Two of her teammates were in, from what she could see, a fight over a…cupcake. One of the men was wearing an overly large army helmet, and the other was a scrawny young man with buckteeth. He had a bloody nose, and the army guy was screaming something about “cupcake communists”. Sitting at the table was a black man wearing an eyepatch, who was laughing at the two so hard that he was punching the table. Also sitting at the table, watching the fight in disgust, was a rather short, skinny man wearing a ski mask and a suit. He was smoking a cigarette daintily.

    He looked over at Apprentice, appraising her for a moment, before sniffing and turning back towards the fight (the army guy now had the skinny one in a headlock, which Skinny was valiantly trying to escape).

    She glared at him. What was his problem? Rolling her eyes, she moved to the couch in the middle of the room, closest to the television set. Two other men were sitting on it. One of them was wearing round spectacles and reading a thick encyclopedia, titled _Gray’s Anatomy._ A glance over his shoulder showed her pictures of organs, scientifically labelled. She wrinkled her nose. The spectacled man acknowledged her with a nod, then returned to his book. He turned the page and laughed at something. She scooted a bit farther away from him. The man farthest from her was tall and muscular, with beady blue eyes. He was knitting what appeared to be a pair of gloves. She sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch, waiting for Engie to come back. She raised her arm to check her watch. Five o’ clock, exactly.

    A large hand tapped her elbow, and she turned in surprise to the large man at the end of the couch. He leaned across the man with the spectacles, who grimaced at him and leaned back.

    “You are new recruit?” He asked. His Russian accent was prominent in those few words.

    “Uh, yeah, I am. My name is Apprentice.” She awkwardly extended her hand. He shook it lightly.

    “I am Heavy Weapons Guy. I have question for you: do you have woolen stockings?”

    She scrunched up her face in confusion. “Umm…yes? It got pretty cold in Nebraska, so I have a couple of pairs. I brought ‘em just in case, but, uh, doesn’t seem like I’ll need ‘em.”

    Heavy Weapons Guy simply shrugged. “It will get cold in the nights.”

    Apprentice nodded slowly.

    “Right, but, uh, wh-why did you want to know?” She tilted her head to the side, squinting at him.

    “Wanted to know if Heavy would have to knit you some. I knit them for new people. Knitted them for Doktor”, he pointed to the man with the anatomy book, ”the little rabbit Scout,” he pointed to the boy fighting, who was still in the headlock and slowly turning blue, “and the Demoman.” he motioned to the man with the eyepatch. “But you do not need them, da?”

    Apprentice twitched her shoulder. “Nah I guess not, huh?” She smiled at him.

    “Pretty nice of ya, Heavy. I can call you that, right?”

    Heavy nodded at her, and returned to his knitting.  The “Doktor” leaned forwards again. He flipped another page, revealing a very realistic drawing of a transparent human body, with all of the organs, nerves, and skeletal system visible. He turned to Apprentice and grinned in a manic way.

    “Zis is my favorite part!”

    She stared at him for a second, then slowly nodded.

    “That-that’s. Nice.”

    He nodded his head feverishly, still grinning, still without blinking, then returned to the book. Just as she was wondering if she should maybe switch places, Engie came back into the room, holding a large cast-iron cooking pot. She stood up quickly and moved towards the table.

    Finally.

 


	2. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a silly chapter/short chapter. I think next chapter is when you find out why Apprentice is here. Also, Spy and Apprentice interact next chapter. Feedback is greatly appreciated, everyone! What do you think I should work on?

As Apprentice walked towards the table, the scents of the meal began to waft towards her. Her stomach rumbled fiercely. Engie sat the tall pot onto an oven mitt sitting in the center of the table. He pulled a handkerchief from his overall pocket and wiped his hands, smiling. His face fell, however, when he noticed the cupcake on the table, and the two men fighting over it.

“Soldier! Scout! Quit roughhousin’! And Soldier, stop chokin’ that boy before ya send him to RESPAWN.” Engie barked. The two team members froze in their actions, Soldier dropping the Scout, who was gasping for breath. The Soldier saluted to Engie, crying, “YESSIR!” Engie just shook his head and headed towards the kitchen again.

“Ah’m goin’ to get the cornbread and corn. Demo, y’wanna help get the dishes?” The man with the eyepatch nodded, and stood up with a grunt and went with Engie towards the kitchen. Soldier dropped his hand from the salute position, then glanced at the cupcake that was still on the table. Scout, who was grumbling to himself as he stood up (“Coulda taken him, didn’t need Engie’s frigging help- “) noticed this, and jumped on the Soldier when he lunged for the pastry.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Scout yelled. The Soldier once again began to yell back, and the two continued to brawl. They hit the table, almost spilling the chili. After around a minute of this, Apprentice had decided that she’d had enough. She was hungry, in an unfamiliar environment, and all this yelling was giving her a headache. She was not happy, so she retaliated.  
Apprentice stalked forwards, closing the gap of around seven feet between herself and her teammates.  
“HEY!” She yelled to disorient them. They turned to her, startled, and before either of them could react, she grabbed Scout by the ear and dragged him away from Soldier, pushing aside the army man as she did so.  
“Knock it off.” She growled. Scout, knocked her hand away, rubbing his ear. Soldier, on the other hand, looked stunned, then grinned proudly at her.  
Scout sneered at her. “Don’t tell me what ta do, you ain’t my ma. Back off!”

She sneered back at him fiercely. “YOU back off, or I’ll break your back.” Ignoring the Scout’s wounded expression, she grabbed the cupcake from the table and held it up to the two men. “This is what you’re fighting over, right?” She asked. The Scout nodded, and the Soldier yelled, “Affirmative!” Apprentice winced. Didn’t the guy have an inside voice? But she nodded in a way that suggested that she had firmly made up her mind about something. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Engie and Demoman had returned, bearing more food and table settings.

“Well then. You guys can’t fight over something that’s not here, can you?”  
Scout and Soldier looked confused. Demoman and Engie were now watching the interactions unfold, Engie with some mild trepidation, Demoman with a grin on his face. Cigarettes had been watching out of the corner of his eyes with interest the whole time, and Catch-22 had gotten up to move to the table, but stood awkwardly near the couch while the scene played out. Heavy and the “Doktor” were still sitting, but began to get up as they noticed the arrival of food.  
Scout put his hands on his hips and snorted. “Whaddaya mean, not here? Ya holdin’ it right in front of my friggin’ fa- “  
Apprentice stopped him mid-sentence by taking a big bite out of the cupcake, and then subsequently finishing it in two more. The Scout looked hilariously affronted, and Soldier’s jaw dropped. Scout sat heavily in his chair to sulk, but Soldier got right up in her face, yelling.  
“HOW DARE YOU EAT THAT CUPCAKE! I AM AN AMERICAN, AND I WILL NOT HAVE MY RIGHT TO CUPCAKES TAKEN BY YOU CUPCAKE COMMUNISTS!”  
Spit flew from his mouth, smudging her glasses. She whipped them off, standing on her tip toes to look him directly in the eye (or as much as she could, with how low his helmet was). Her green eyes were wide and dangerously bright as her face reddened with anger.  
“How about you get out of my face, you sociopathic sergeant! I’m American too, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO EAT THAT CUPCAKE!” She yelled back. She wiped her glasses off on the hem of her dress, shoved them back on her face and continued to glare the man down.

  
         The Soldier, however, responded in a way that took her by surprise. He grinned and saluted her, relaxing his muscles a bit so that he wasn’t standing as stiff as a board.  
“Ma’am, you are a true American woman! I salute you! You take this attitude to those cupcake communists and kick it right up their asses!” He then proceeded to fall into a chair.  
Apprentice lowered herself back onto the balls of her feet, anger being replaced with confusion. “Um…. thanks, I guess.”  
She turned to Engie, who simply shrugged at her, chuckling. The rest of the team sat down at the table as Demoman finished passing around dishes, and she could see that they had all found the scene to be hilarious. The only one who didn’t appear visibly amused was Cigarettes, who reluctantly put out the one he was smoking when he caught Engie’s glare. There was still an empty seat, but no one else seemed to notice, so she kept quiet. Once they were all seated, Engie clapped his hands together.  
“Alrighty then! Now, firstly we’re gonna- hang on, where’s Pyro?” Engie looked around the room, spying him over on the floor by one of the couches, still flicking the lighter.  
“Pyro,” he called, catching the attention of the man. “Suppertime.”

The Pyro grinned and jumped up, trotting to the table like a little kid. He took his seat and rested his chin on his hands, his elbows propped up on the edge of the table. He stared off into space, his eyes still open slightly more than normal.  
“Now then,” Engie approved, nodding. “First, we’ve got some chili, cornbread, and corn on the cob. Ya don’t like it, don’t eat it, and you can go hungry till it’s your turn to cook. While y’all’re dishin’ yer food out, we’re gonna go ‘round the table clockwise and say our names, just so we all know ‘em. You can start.” He said, motioning towards Apprentice.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I’m Apprentice.”

The rest of the team scrambled for food (and so did she), and continued to divulge their class names.  
“Scout, an’ I’m like da coolest- “

“Demoman, who thinks this boyo should quit kissin’ his own arse and let everyone go. An’ you can call me Demo, lass.” Apprentice decided that she liked him. He seemed fun, and had an interesting Scottish accent.

“I AM THE SOLDIER!"

“I am called ze Spy.” Said Cigarettes with a prominent French accent, raised eyebrows. He didn’t seem to be eating much.

“Medic!” She noticed he was still reading his book as he ate.

“…...m’theSniper.” A quiet but harsh voice mumbled, coming from the shy man. He sounded…. British? Australian? Australian, she decided. Even though he seemed uncomfortable in his surroundings, he still had a sharp edge to him, something that seemed to say, “I might be nervous but if any of you make fun of me I’ll rip your heart out.” Not an easy thing to convey simply through body language and milliseconds of eye contact, but he was doing an excellent job at it.

“Engie, as you know.”

“Pyro!” The man’s voice was rough and deep-throated, but still enthusiastic and almost juvenile. He was making statues out of his cornbread with one hand and twirling his dreadlocks in the other.  
“Apprentice already knows Heavy.”  
She nodded, and continued with her food, taking in the environment. The rest of the team was either eating in silence, or involved in conversation. The Scout had decided to confront the Soldier about the cupcake, claiming that it was unfair because he was American, too. The Soldier, however, seemed to be mostly ignoring him, choosing instead to “converse” with Demo, in the loosest use of the word. They seemed to be mostly yelling nonsense and laughing. Engie was having a quiet conversation with the Sniper, and the Spy had somehow managed to steal the Sniper’s book, and was currently flipping through it.

“So, uh, I didn’t mean it about earlier, ya know?” The Scout said, grinning at her, revealing his buck teeth. She understood why Heavy had called him a rabbit.  
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”  
He leaned back in his chair, putting one of his arms on the headrest of her chair. “Nah, I was just messin’ around is all! You’re pretty cool, ya know? And dat thing with the cupcake was pretty hilarious, acksually.”  
“Actually.” She quietly corrected him.

He tilted his head to the side. “Huh? OH! Yeah, I know, it’s my freakin’ accent, ya know? And den my teeth ain’t helping much, so I gotta kinda speech imped’ment, I guess. But dat’s cool thatchya caught that, you must be pretty smart, huh?”  
“Yeah, I guess.” She squinted at him. “Sorry to ask, but are you trying to…. flirt with me? Or what is this?”  
The Scout removed his arm from her chair and exaggerated a wounded expression. “What, a dude can’t just talk to a girl, huh? Nah, I know, my ma says I come off too strong but mosta the girls I evah talked to were the ones I was looking to date so ya know, that’s just kinda how I am now. But nah, you’re cute, I guess, but I’m holdin’ out for Miss P to start recipercatin’ my, y’now, feelings for her. Cuz she’s a classy lady, and waitin’ for her to change her mind’ll totally impress her!”  
Apprentice shook her head, smiling. “If you say so.”


	3. Loony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy Medic isn't a blood crazy fiend who's evil for no reason. Feedback, are they in character? :) Demo is fun to write!

The meal that Engie had prepared was finished fairly quickly, and soon the team dispersed to do what they pleased, though some remained at the table to continue talking. As Apprentice stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, the Spy stood as well and walked around the table towards her.

He eyed her for a moment, before inclining his head.

"Madam. If you are finished...?"

She nodded, fingers tapping against her leg.

"Yeah, I'm done. Why?"

"To inform you of the plan going forward. First, go tell Medic you are finished with supper. He will take you to the medical bay and implant your RESPAWN chip."

Apprentice's eyes widened slightly.

"I'll be alone with him?!" She said quietly.

The Spy's eyebrows raised.

"Oui. Would that be problematic?"

She shifted nervously.

"Well....I mean, he seems kind of, y'know..." Her voice trailed off as she wondered what to say. Although she hadn't finished, Spy nodded anyways. He gave her a reassuring look, though she noticed that his murky blue eyes remained cold and guarded.

"I assure you, while Medic is certainly....strange, he is perfectly safe as long as you are on his good side. And since you are not a RED, that is where you stand."

Apprentice still looked worried. At first Spy seemed confused, but then his eyes widened in understanding.

"Ah. This is a strange place, we are strange men. But we are good men, as ironic as it may seem, considering what we do for a living."

She chuckled at that, although she supposed she had no room to judge, seeing as she was now a mercenary as well.

The Spy continued:" While I suppose none of us are really all here, mentally, none of us are as calloused and far gone as to undermine your consent."

Apprentice nodded. Although she still harbored some doubts, she supposed he was right. From what she'd seen of the team, they didn't seem like a threat to her.

"I guess so." She replied.

Spy tilted his head. "You are doubtful?"

She raised an eyebrow. "How could I not be? But I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it. And honestly, I kill people. If anyone tries anything, I'll make their life hell."

Her instructor grinned at her. "I see Helen made the right choice." He murmured, half to himself.

Apprentice cleared her throat. "Sorry about sidetracking our conversation," she said, though Spy told her not to worry. "Please continue."

"Very good." He pointed to the same couch Medic had been on earlier. "He's over there. After you get the RESPAWN chip, you will no doubt be tired. Do you know where the bedrooms are?"

She nodded in answer, remembering.

"Good. Which one is yours shall be obvious; your name will be on it. Inside will be your uniform and equipment. Miss Pauling had them shipped in with the last supply delivery. I will provide you with a tour of the compound at six o' clock sharp, so please attend breakfast rather early if you wish to eat. After that, we will begin your training."

The woman nodded. "Thanks for letting me know, Spy."

He inclined his head again. "De rien."

The well-dressed man walked away, pulling out his cigarette case. He grumbled as Engie scolded him once more for smoking in the dining room. She snorted in amusement as she saw the Frenchman stick his tongue out at the Engineer when he looked away, and the Spy pointedly left the room.

Apprentice wasn't sure what to think of him. He seemed amicable enough, although she hoped she wouldn't have to wear a balaclava like that. It had to be uncomfortable, and, come to think of it, kind of gross if he wore it all the time. It's purpose was clear, but as the team had already seen her face, there would really be no point to it. And she doubted if one would fit her head anyways, what with her hair and glasses.

With a sigh, she walked over to where the Medic sat. The Heavy was gone, and in his place sat Demo, who was watching something on the television. As she got closer, she recognized the show as being Looney Tunes. She watched the craziness of the cartoon unfold for a moment, smiling, before clearing her throat to get the Medic's attention.

Demo responded first.

"Ach, there you are, Prentiss! Sit down, will ya? This show's a right hoot!"

"Prentiss?"

Demo shrugged, grinning at her. "Wha', you cannae have a nickname? So sue me, I've got a weakness for them."

"Nein, you are just lazy." Wheezed Medic, who had been bent double laughing at Bugs Bunny managing to trick Daffy Duck into being shot.

"Tha' too." Demo conceded. He looked back at Apprentice. "So, what can we do for ya, lass?"

"Well, while I'd love to watch this with you, I came to remind Medic that I need my RESPAWN chip implanted, so...."

Medic jumped up excitedly. "Ah, yes! I had almost forgotten! That would've led to a rather nasty accident on the battlefield, ja?" He grinned at her.

Apprentice raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah."

Medic straightened his white lab coat before walking off, calling, "Come on, Fraulein!"

She glanced at Demo, who said, " Don't worry, Prentiss. Go on. I'll save ya a seat!"

She smiled, thanking him, and followed the Medic out of the room.

The two walked down the hallway in silence, but when they turned to descend a flight of stairs, Apprentice asked him a question.

"So, no offense, Medic, but I was just curious. I noticed your accent....did you fight? In World War II?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her, and he adjusted his circular glasses.

"Are you asking if I was a Nazi?" He responded.

She thought for a moment. "No. My dad's side of the family is from Germany, so I have relatives over there. They had to fight for Hitler, but they weren't Nazis."

They reached the bottom of the stairway. There were metal double doors that said MEDICAL BAY. Apprentice and Medic entered. 

The doctor waved for her to sit on a steel operating table that was in the middle of the room, and he began gathering his equipment from the various cabinets around the room. He stayed silent until he had come back to the table, placing the surgical equipment on a wheeled cart that he had pulled over. Finally, Medic sighed.

"Nein. I was in hiding for most of the war, until I was placed in a concentration camp. It was around 1943, I think. I am not Jewish, but my wife...." He shrugged. "We were seperated then, and after the war I never saw her again. Most likely, she is dead. I immigrated to America, looking for a surgery to work at. Ich was beschädigt, obwohl. I ended up losing my medical license. Then Mann Co. found me. And you know the rest." He finished, shrugging. As he had been talking he had been pulling on surgical gloves, inspecting his tools. 

Apprentice frowned in sympathy. With her limited knowledge of German, she had managed to understand the gist of what he had said in the other language, and she understood why he was the way he was. He had gone through a horrifying ordeal, and hadn't been able to deal with it. He seemed to be lucid enough, however, to tell that he wasn't completely sane, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad, to be honest. 

She shifted her legs. "Do you...wanna talk about it?"

Medic snorted, picking up a washcloth and dousing it in a cloudy antiseptic liquid. 

"What are you, a psychologist?" He asked, swabbing her arm with the cloth. She shivered at the cold.

She shrugged as Medic turned back to his equipment. "I read a book on it, once. I'm an expert." 

The German shook his head at her. He turned back to his patient, syringe in hand. 

"Now, Apprentice, I'm going to give you some anesthesia. I want you to lie back as it kicks in. This chip will be implanted right...here." He said, tapping her head. Her eyes widened. 

"You're putting that into my brain?!" She asked, looking horrified. Medic nodded at her.

"Ja. Do not worry, it will not hurt. Trust me."

"Yeah, right. I don't think I'd trust anyone to put something in my brain."

Shrugging, Medic set his syringe down. "Fine. It is your choice, fraulein. Either the very, very small chance of dying during this operation while asleep, or dying painfully in the middle of the battlefield and never coming back."

The doctor pointed to a strange cylindrical device that was attached to the ceiling, above her head. She had assumed thta it was some sort of light.

"That is a variant of my Medi-Gun. I use it during all of my operations, in case something goes amiss. It will keep you alive. Now, lie back."

Shivering, Apprentice nodded and did as he said. Even with the prospect of a medical gun, she was terrified. She'd been in many hospitals, and none of those experiences had been good. Her anxieties began to ease away, however, when she felt the sharp pinch of a needle in her bicep. After a few moments, her eyelids began to droop, and she felt calm. The last thing she saw before her vision went dark was a bright blue, ethereal stream of...something flowing from the Medi-Gun. 

Then her eyes were closed, and she drifted away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! Sorry that I didn't put this up sooner, but luckily someone pointed it out to me! When Medic is speaking German, he's saying "I was damaged, though."  
> (if I happen to be wrong please let me know :) )


	4. New Duds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated!

Apprentice groaned as she opened her eyes, squinting at the bright light above her. Everything was blurry, and her head was pounding. She raised a heavy hand to rub her temple, and with a sigh she slowly sat up.

"Urgh." She moaned as her stomach turned unpleasantly. Looking around the medical bay, she noticed that Medic was gone. Huh. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter past seven, which meant that she'd gone under around forty minutes ago.

Twisting around so her feet were on the floor, she carefully put her weight onto her shaky legs and stood. On the cart next to the gurney was a small note, with her class name written on it in large black letters. She grabbed it and unfolded it.

 _Apprentice,_ it read _. The procedure was successful. You are now hooked up to the RESPAWN. If you have any questions, I will be in the rec room until eight. If not,_ _just head up to your room, or something. Guten nicht. Medic._

After she managed to decipher the Medic's scribbly handwriting, she crumpled up the note and tossed it onto the gurney. Questions? What kind of questions was she supposed to have? A computer chip of some kind had just been shoved into her brain, and she didn't even know how it worked. She wasn't going to ask that, though. She doubted that the Medic knew, anyway. Apprentice had asked Miss Pauling during her briefing, but had been told that it was confidential information. No doubt to keep the technology under wraps.

She noticed a filing cabinet in the corner, and, curious, she approached it. The top drawer read "Team Files". She tried opening it, but it was locked. Grumbling, she pulled her lockpick tools out of her breast pocket, working the lock until she heard a small click. She pulled open the drawer.

The files were labelled alphabetically, and hers was second to last. She opened the manilla folder.

Inside was a picture of her pinned to a typed out report. The first line read "SARAH SHERIDAN". Under that was a list of her previous jobs, and her physical and mental health information. The file was slipped back into place. The one after hers was the Scout's. Curious as to what his name was, she pulled it out of place. Momentarily, she felt a pang of guilt for doing this snooping, but...it was her job. She considered it...practice.

It turned out that the Scout's name was Jeremy Walsh. Fitting, she thought.

Out in the hallway, she heard something clatter. Heart pounding, she quietly placed the folder back, and was about to close the drawer when she saw the Pyro's file. Crap. She had to close the drawer, but she really was curious about the Pyro.

Whatever. Ripping the file out of place, she opened it quickly. Surprisingly there was no name, but there was an interesting tidbit in the health section.

Mental Health Problems:  
Schizoaffective disorder.  
Delusions, hallucinations, mood swings, depression, and manic episodes of high energy. Most often noted as episodes, not continuous.  
Pyromania.

After reading this, which rather explained Pyro's earlier behavior, she stuffed the folder back, closing the drawer and re-locking it. Perhaps no one was coming.

But of course she would not be so lucky.

As she turned to walk away, she found herself face to face with the Spy, who's eyebrows were raised.

She gasped, stepping backwards.

"Jesus, Spy, you scared the crap outta me!" She whispered harshly, swatting his arm. He swatted her right back.

She rubbed her arm. "What was that for?" She grumbled. "I'm not the one who just snuck up on somebody."

He smirked at her. "No, you were just the one who was rifling through private files. And I assure you, I simply hit you to assure that you were not the RED spy, and it was in no way retaliation for your surprisingly painful, not to mention uncalled for, slap."

Apprentice frowned at him, but didn't say anything.

"So." Spy said. "Why were you looking through the files? Which ones did you see?"

"All of them." She bluffed.

"Hm. What is my name?"

She stared the masked man down for a moment before answering. "Jacques."

He snorted in amusement. "Non. But I'm sure the Soldier would have been proud of an answer as ignorant as that."

Apprentice folded her arms. "So....are you going to tell Medic?"

The Spy glanced at her, surprised. "Do you want me to?"

She shook her head.

"Then why would I? You are a spy; this is the nature of your job. If you get caught, you get caught, but I will not sell you out, nor should you sell yourself out. But you had best leave now if you wish to avoid running into Medic."

With that, he turned around and left, quiet as a whisper. Apprentice quickly checked the cabinet to assure that everything was in order before following him. By the time she made it to the hallway, Spy had disappeared.

She hurried out and upstairs. On her way to the rec room, she stopped, remembering that she had a uniform in her bunk. Apprentice decided that she would try it on for size before seeing if Demo was still watching television. Following the signs, she made her way down the hallway, and a few turns later she was outside the door labelled "BUNKS".

She pushed it open, and inside was yet another hallway, with around twenty doors running along it, ten on each side. Ten were labelled, and she assumed that the rest were for storage, or guest rooms in case someone from the faculty stopped by. She knew that Miss Pauling had a monthly visit where she would inspect the facilities, so maybe she would stay in one of those rooms?

The door labelled "APPRENTICE" was at the end of the hallway. She turned the knob, revealing the room inside. It was small, but not uncomfortably so. There was a bed pushed up against the right wall, with a nightstand on the other side. A dresser sat across from the bed, and there was a lamp next to it. Apprentice decided that she liked her room. It reminded her of the apartment that she had had in Omaha before she'd been hired.

Draped across the bed was her uniform. She picked it up, admiring the outfit. It had a blue M-65 field jacket, which was hooded and had several pockets in various places for ammunition, including a small one in the seam of the collar. What that was for, she didn't know. She quickly slipped out of her yellow dress, pulling on the long-sleeved white undershirt. The coat was next, and then she grabbed the navy blue cargo pants. Apprentice stepped into them. They were slightly baggier by the knees, and she could feel hidden pockets lining the insides of the legs.

After all that, she pulled on her boots, and then maneuvered her way into two different holsters, one on her belt, another on the side of her thigh. There was also a knife sheath on her belt. She pulled the hood of her coat up, and found that there was a bandana- like piece of cloth sewed onto one side of the hood. When she pulled the unattached end across her face and buttoned it to the other side of the hood, it covered everything except for her eyes.

Apprentice pulled the bandana and hood down. Her duffel bag had also been moved to the room, she noticed, no doubt when she was in surgery, and she pulled a hand mirror out of one of the pockets, angling it so she could see her whole body when she moved it up and down.

She grinned. God, this uniform was cool. There were even little circular patches on the shoulders in yellow, with a picture of a blue knife in the center. It felt good to wear proper pants again, too, not those tight-fitting, high-waisted things she'd normally have to wear. She hadn't worn proper trousers since her last freelance job, almost a year ago. It felt nice.

Once she made sure everything was on properly, she left her room and headed back to the rec room. Sure enough, Demo was still there, watching a rerun of Gilligan's Island. It around eight ten, so Medic was gone, but Pyro had joined Demo on the couch. She made her way over to them. The two men looked up at her. Demo grinned.

"I see ya found yer uniform. Looks very practical. Sure it'll do a right good job of helpin' ya kill some REDs."

Apprentice grinned back. "That's the plan."

Pyro scooted over so there was room for her to sit, and she flopped onto the cushion. The pyromaniac leaned over to her, whispering in his crackly voice, "This is my favorite episode." She nodded tensely, still a bit unnerved by the man, especially now that she knew the intensity of his mania.

Demo took a swig of the beer he was holding, grabbing another out of s carton on the floor, passing it to the woman. "Want one?"

Apprentice shrugged. "Eh, why not?" She took the bottle, pulling the cork out. The label on the glass read "Scrumpy". She took a sip, wincing at the strength of the alcohol.

"Wow. Strong. But it's good."

Demo grinned again. "Aye."

"Sh!" Pyro hissed.

And so the trio lapsed into a comfortable silence, with no little help from the alcohol.


End file.
